


Dinner with Friends

by Melanie_b



Series: These Times of Ours [2]
Category: Kabby fandom, Kabbyoza - Fandom, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Developing Friendships, F/F, F/M, Fantasizing, Not an actual threesome, Sexual Fantasy, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-09-30 21:55:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20454158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melanie_b/pseuds/Melanie_b
Summary: Kane and Abby invite Diyoza to dinner and explain their presence in the year 2156. The evening has surprising consequences for Kane.





	1. Abby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Veridissima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veridissima/gifts).

> This fic is set in the These Times of Ours universe, one week after the epilogue. Chapter 1 is pure Kabby, Chapter 2 is Kabbyoza friendship and Chapter 3 is Kabbyoza inspired smut for Joana's birthday gift. If you don't like the idea of Kabbyoza you may not want to read Chapter 3 or just skip this one altogether. Happy Birthday Joana, thank you for all your support and for being such a wonderful person!

Food shopping was one of the great delights of life in non-apocalyptic 2156. On the Ark, they’d eaten tasteless protein biscuits and algae soup. On the ground, their diet had somewhat improved, with nuts and berries and eventually a few vegetables as well as whatever wild animal could be killed and roasted, but then it had decidedly taken a turn for the worse in the bunker. But once they’d set foot in the past, in the year 2047, Abby had embarked on a love affair with food which had swept her off her feet.

Here in 2156, their comfortable incomes from their jobs - he as a top NYPD detective and she as head of surgery at the hospital - meant that they often ate out and even when they didn’t they cooked delicious meals at home. Marcus had proved himself to be quite the budding chef, and in this timeline he'd spent time in Italy where he had learned the basics of Italian cuisine. The dishes he produced often left Abby semi-orgasmic with pleasure to the extent he teasingly accused her of preferring his food to sex (she didn’t, of course, but she’d never admit to him just how close of a contest it actually was.) 

Weeks of eating healthy, nutritious food in abundant quantities had had an effect on their figures too. At two months pregnant, Abby was beginning to fill out slightly around the middle, her cheeks were fuller and her thighs more rounded. She knew she’d have to be careful if she didn’t want to balloon in the later stages of pregnancy but for now she was enjoying the fact that she was eating for two (and Marcus certainly wasn’t complaining about her softer curves). He, on the other hand, seemed less susceptible to the effects of eating than she was, but his body had a softness to it which had been less evident in the old timeline, and the fluffy hair on his belly now sat on a tiny plump cushion which he was incredibly self-conscious about but which she found adorable.

Abby pushed her glasses further up her nose and peered at the shopping list Marcus had given her. He was cooking, but it was her duty to do the shopping for their dinner with Charmaine that evening. Abby was excited but anxious: they were going to have to explain their existence in 2156 to her and it was a bit of a tall story, to put it mildly. 

Pasta orecchiette. What on earth was that? She scanned the shelves of pasta until her eyes fell on the packet of small indented disks. She picked up two just to be safe and then whipped around the supermarket and grabbed the vegetables, fruit and cheeses and hams he’d ordered. She’d already made the tiramisu for dessert - sans alcohol and with decaf coffee for the pregnant ladies present - the evening before and it was chilling in the fridge.

……………….

That afternoon Abby relaxed on the terrace, drinking fruit cocktails and reading, whilst Marcus went to the gym. When he got back, around six o’clock, they started preparing dinner. Abby put some music on and Marcus chopped and sautéed until the house was filled with mouthwatering aromas that made Abby’s tummy rumble. It was August, and the sun had been beating down all day, but the evening was cool enough to eat outside. The view of the city was breathtaking and she’d never tire of gazing at the twinkling towers around her. If truth be told it reminded her a little of the view of the stars from the Ark, back in happier days before the oxygen crisis when life had gone to shit. She was contemplating the table she’d laid on their terrace when Marcus appeared next to her.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his eyes warm but concerned, worried as usual that she was overdoing herself by placing a few plates and glasses on the table.

“I’m fine,” she said, slipping her arm around his waist with a little sigh. “A little anxious, I guess, but it’ll be fun to let someone in on our secret.”

“Hmmm.” Marcus hadn’t been so eager to meet up with Charmaine, remembering Jennifer’s advice to not reveal the splinter technology to a terrorist organisation, but Charmaine Diyoza was no longer a terrorist, and had actually received an official thank you from the president of the United States for her actions in containing the rebellion and bringing Eligius IV safely back to Earth. Unfortunately Abby had bumped into Charmaine at the ob-gyn the previous week and they were now compelled to explain to her why they were alive and well a hundred and nine years after she had helped them to destroy Becca’s lab.

“It’ll be okay,” Abby reassured him. “You’re becoming an old worry-pants, you know.”

“A what?” Marcus looked startled by her choice of vocabulary. His fingers around her waist moved to her ribs to tickle her and she giggled and twisted away from him but he pulled her back to him, enveloping her in a hug and kissing her softly. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in the soft curls at the base of his neck and kissed him back. He deepened the kiss immediately and his hands wandered down her back to cup her ass and squeeze her against him. 

“Marcus…” she whispered as his lips left hers to move along her jaw and down her neck. She could feel his arousal through his jeans, knew where this was going, but they didn’t have time.

“There’s time,” he muttered against her skin, reading her mind. “It won’t take long.” His hands were on her breasts now and she felt her resolve weakening. She’d been so tired in the evenings lately that their sex life had suffered a little, which was only to be expected in the first trimester, but right now his lips and hands were pushing all the right buttons and she’d never felt more awake.

“Not here though, I just laid the table.”

She gave a small yelp as his strong hands lifted her and carried her back into the kitchen, where he placed her gently on the kitchen work surface.

“I want you so badly,” he murmured, as he pushed her dress up her thighs and his thumb caressed her sex through her panties. She groaned and leant back on her hands, and he bent his head to kiss her neck before moving down to kiss the swell of her breasts above her dress and then to nuzzle between her thighs. Without even removing her panties he pushed them aside and plunged his tongue between her folds, and the moan that escaped him when he tasted her sent vibrations through her which nearly made her come on the spot. 

“Oh God, that’s so good,” she moaned, as his tongue found a rhythm against her clit. She clutched his hair, holding him where she wanted him, and gave herself up to the pleasure that flooded through her. When he took her clit in his mouth and gave it a gentle suck she came with a gasp and high pitched cry, her legs clenching around his back, 

Standing up, he pulled her dress back down and looked at her smugly. 

“Thank you,” she sighed happily. “That was wonderful.”

“My pleasure,” he grinned.

“Speaking of which… I really don’t think we have time.”

“For me? It’s okay. I can wait.”

Her heart swelled with love. "I love you."

"I know you do." 

“Go wash your face,” she smiled. “You can’t greet Charmaine with me all over your beard.”

“I love having you all over my beard,” he said with a mock frown.

“I know.” She caressed his cheek lovingly, then pushed him in the direction of the bathroom, just as the doorbell rang.

“That’s her,” she said excitedly and jumped down to go and buzz her up.

  
  
  
  



	2. Charmaine

Charmaine Diyoza was not a woman who usually suffered from butterflies. A hardened navy seal, she had defected to join a terrorist organisation set on bringing down a fascist government. After finally being caught and sentenced in the autumn of 2047, she had served out her sentence on Eligius IV, mining hethylodium on an asteroid, and even managed to quell a rebellion and save the crew. She had returned to Earth a hero, having prevented a group of prisoners from using weaponised hethylodium to bargain for their freedom. 

So the butterflies that danced in her tummy at the prospect of dinner with Marcus Kane and Abby Griffin were entirely unexpected. 

Maybe it was because she hadn’t participated in anything vaguely social for more than a hundred years (although she had been in cryosleep for most of that so it wouldn’t have been possible anyway) but the idea of sitting and talking to people for an evening was more terrifying than, say, planting a bomb in the car of a corrupt politician or holding his entire family to ransom. Which was ridiculous. 

It may also have been because she herself could find no explanation for Kane and Abby’s presence here in 2156, and that bothered her beyond belief. A little voice in her head told her that it might also have been just because it was Kane and Abby. Kane was handsome, and Abby was beautiful, and their love for each other was so intense, so all consuming, and she couldn’t help being attracted not so much to them individually but to their love for each other. 

Seven thirty that evening found her knocking at the door of their apartment, a bottle of alcohol free wine in her hand, the butterflies still fluttering, although she’d managed to quash most of them with a severe talking to. Abby opened the door, looking breathtakingly beautiful in a simple white dress that showed off her tan beautifully. Her hair was twisted up into a bun, and lose tendrils framed her face. 

Charmaine!” She threw the door open and Charmaine stepped into the spacious apartment, her butterflies disappearing with Abby's warm smile. 

“Abby! It’s so nice to see you,” she smiled. “And Kane. Been hijacking any women in their cars lately?” Her tone was teasing as she accepted their kisses with a proffered cheek. Kane huffed an awkward laugh. 

“I don’t make a habit of that sort of thing,” he said with a wry smile. “But desperate times called for desperate measures.”

Charmaine nodded, but she was still a little wary, and her eyes searched their faces suspiciously. Abby led her out onto the terrace, where an elegant table had been set for three, and Kane cracked open a bottle of the wine. He poured them a glass each and then disappeared back into the apartment. Charmaine cast an admiring glance at the view of the city. 

“Nice,” she said. “It reminds me of looking out at the stars from Eligius IV.”

“Yeah,” said Abby. “Me too.” She sat down and Charmaine copied her, raising an eyebrow in surprise. That was unexpected.

“You’ve been in space? On Alpha Station?

“Yes. And no.” Abby frowned and pursed her lips. “It’s complicated.”

“Maybe you should start at the beginning,” said Charmaine. “We have all evening.” She sat back in her chair, her glass of wine in her hand, and began to feel a little more in control of the situation, until Abby spoke again. 

“Actually, it would be better to start at the end in this case, and work backwards. But first, let’s eat,” as Kane appeared with the pot of pasta which he placed in the middle of the table. “And then we’ll tell you everything.”

“It’s orecchiette alle cime di rapa,” explained Kane. He was wearing an apron with Michelangelo’s David on the front, although there was a fig leaf covering the genitalia, which Charmaine was thankful for. Even if it wasn’t his penis, she’d have found it hard to look him in the eye. He served the ladies their plates and then took a helping for himself. “It’s a typical dish from Apulia in the south of Italy.” He seemed pleased with himself, his eyes creased and sparkling, and Charmaine couldn't help thinking how different he was here compared to the bruised and battered desperate man she had found in her car in 2047.

“It smells wonderful,” she said as she sprinkled grated parmigiano onto her pasta. “What do you mean, start at the end? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Kane took over the story. “Abby’s right, it’s the best place to start. The question isn’t “What are we doing here in twenty-one fifty-six?,” but “What were we doing in twenty forty-seven?” You see, we’re from this time. I was born in twenty-one oh seven, and Abby in twenty-one oh nine.”

_“What?” _Charmaine paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. This wasn’t possible. “Then how the hell were you in twenty forty-seven?”

“We had access to temporal displacement technology,” said Abby darkly.

Charmaine looked from one to the other. She wondered if they were joking but no, their faces wore matching deadly serious expressions, two pairs of dark brown eyes staring back at her in earnest.

“You mean time travel.”

“Yes,” they said together.

“That’s not possible.”

“That’s what we thought,” said Abby, her face lighting up in excitement. “But it is. It was invented to stop an apocalypse in twenty seventeen, and we found the splinter vests in twenty-one fifty six. Remember when Marcus saved you from the lab? He travelled back in time, and got you out.” 

Charmaine was speechless. In the last week she had explored every possible explanation for Abby being in 2156 but this one hadn’t even entered her head. Or rather, it had but she had immediately dismissed it as impossible. She regarded them for a moment, remembering the night in question, how she had been prepared to die and Kane had appeared before her out of nowhere. She'd felt his arms around her, lifting her, and then he was gone again and she was on the beach looking up at the sky as the lab exploded behind the trees.

“I told you that the AI was going to destroy the world,” said Kane. “That day when I hijacked you in your car. Right after you flipped me onto my back and held a knife to my throat.” He smirked at her, while Abby looked at her in astonishment.

“You did - _ what?” _

“In my defence, he hid in my car and scared the shit out of me,” said Charmaine smoothly, but Kane just shook his head, an amused smile on his lips. 

“You weren’t scared. You were in control of the situation the whole time.”

“You flipped Marcus?” Abby said, her expression one of complete awe. “You’ll have to teach me how to do it.”

“Abby, you don’t need to use violence to get me on my back,” said Kane with a soft chuckle and Charmaine smiled at the faint blush crossing Abby’s cheeks. 

“Anyway,” she said, changing the subject. “In our timeline, the AI destroyed the world, in twenty fifty-two. That’s how Marcus knew. The only survivors were our ancestors, who lived on twelve space stations orbiting the Earth. And that’s where we were born.”

Charmaine listened entranced as they told her the story of the twelve space stations uniting, of the subsequent oxygen crisis, and how they’d been forced to send a hundred teenagers including Abby’s daughter to the ground to see if it was survivable. There was pain on their faces and sadness in their voices as they talked of their time on Earth, and when Abby’s dark eyes filled with tears, Kane reached for her hand and held it tightly as she was talking. He was so in tune with her, he could see immediately when she was struggling, or rather when she was going to start struggling, and he was there to carry her through it, prompting her when she stalled, finishing her sentences when she wasn't able to.

Charmaine had never heard a story like it. The years in the bunker were literally hell on Earth, their lives wracked by Abby’s addiction, the cannibalism, the fighting pits, their leader Blodreina. And when she heard that she herself had opened the bunker, using the mining equipment from Eligius IV, and that she had subsequently tortured Abby’s daughter, she didn’t know what to say. 

“That’s how you knew who I was,” she said thoughtfully.

“Yes,” said Kane. “You opened the bunker but you wanted control of the valley, the last remaining survivable land on earth.”

“But why would you trust me to help you blow up the lab? Abby, I tortured your daughter.” 

“Time travel creates strange paradoxical situations,” explained Abby. “Ironically, the only way to stop you torturing Clarke was to destroy the AI, and we needed your help to do that.”

“Abby and I fled - from you and from Blodreina,” went on Kane. “That’s when we found the splinter vests, and we realised that we could go back in time, and stop the apocalypse. Save seven billion people. Would you like some more pasta?” 

“Thank you. It’s delicious.” She held out her plate and he heaped another helping onto it. “You know, I was so confused, the night we blew up the lab. I had no idea how I’d gotten out, or where you went. I woke up alone on the beach and never saw either of you again.”

“We splintered straight back to the future, and woke up on our wedding day here in twenty-one fifty-six. We were pretty confused too,” said Abby with a laugh. “It was terrifying at first.”

“So that’s our story,” said Kane. “We travelled back in time, blew up the lab so that the AI wouldn't be built, and when we came back to the present the world was no longer post-apocalyptic.”

“It’s incredible. The risks you took. You couldn’t have even known if you would exist in the new timeline.”

“It was a gamble,” said Kane. “But anyone would have done the same, to save humanity. You were prepared to die too, in that lab. Your last words to me were “What’s one life for seven billion?”” 

Abby stood to clear away the plates. Charmaine took another sip of her wine, and stared out at the Manhattan skyline in front of her. When Abby was in the kitchen, she spoke. 

“How’s Abby’s addiction now? You know, with the pregnancy. It could cause complications.”

“She’s not addicted anymore. When we changed time, she was clean. In this timeline, she never started taking the pills, you see.” He stopped, swallowed. “It was what gave me the idea of changing time, you know. It was the only way I could think of to save her.” His voice was thick with emotion, and when she turned her head to look at him his handsome face was lined with pain. 

“Opioid addiction’s a bitch. I lost men to it in the past. Abby’s strong.”

“She is. She tried so many times to quit. And each time she slipped, I was sure I was going to lose her.”

“It must have been hard.” 

He nodded, a distant look in his eyes. “She was always so full of hope that humanity could be saved. But in the end, trying to save us all… it broke her. She started taking the pills for a medical issue, but it just spiralled into a way to numb the pain. To forget.” His voice cracked a little and Charmaine purposely looked away to give him a moment to compose himself. Abby returned with the tiramisu, and with one look at Kane’s face she reached out to caress his cheek, a soft smile on her lips. Kane smiled at her warmly, his arm going round her waist, and the look of love that passed between filled Charmiane’s heart with an unfamiliar warmth. 

After dinner, Charmaine offered to help clear up but Kane wouldn’t hear of it. He busied himself in the kitchen while she and Abby moved inside to the big soft leather couch where they both put their feet up on the pouf to ease their aching legs. Abby used a remote control to dim the lights a little and Charmaine sank back against the big dark red cushions. The couch was cream and the rug on the floor matched the cushions. There was no television which was refreshing but there were shelves of books and bright paintings on the walls.

There was one thing Charmaine couldn’t get her head around. “So when you arrived here, in this timeline, you already had all of this? I mean you already existed here?"

"Yes, we existed here. We learned about our new pasts through our dreams. Everything is perfect here, my ex-husband is even still alive but happily married to my best friend. All our friends are here. It's more than we ever could have dreamed of,” she said softly. “Even on the Ark, back before the oxygen crisis, life was hard. We lived by almost totalitarian rules, and there were no comforts. Food was simply nourishment, to stay alive. Clothes were scraped together from remnants of fabric. Our living quarters were cramped and functional. Here - “ Abby gestured vaguely at the spacious living room, and she needed no words for Charmaine to understand what she meant. “What about you? It must be weird for you too, finding yourself catapulted a hundred years into the future.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely an improvement for me too. The twenty forties weren’t a great time to be alive either. But the worst thing is the loneliness. I know _nobody _here.”

“You know us,” said Abby with a smile. “I’d like to think that we could be friends.”

"I tortured your daughter, Abby. I hate to think that’s the sort of thing I’d do…” she trailed off. “Even back in my days as a terrorist I never resorted to torture.”

“It wasn’t you, Charmaine. It was another version of you. A version that had arrived back to a post-apocalyptic Earth to find her chances of survival we’re almost non-existent.” She paused. “We all did terrible things in that timeline. _ All _of us.”

“Yeah.” Charmaine huffed a laugh. “Desperate times.”

“Right.”

“It would be nice to be friends,” said Charmaine. "You and Kane make a lovely couple. I can see how much you love each other."

The way Abby’s face broke into a smile of pure happiness was adorable. “He was my hope when times were really dark.”

“Hope,” echoed Charmaine thoughtfully. Kane had used the same word about Abby, just moments before. Her hand caressed her swollen belly. “That’s a good name. Don’t you think?”


	3. Marcus

Later that night, when Charmaine had left with promises to meet again soon, Marcus lay in bed with Abby in his arms, her head resting on his chest. He wondered if she was too tired for sex. It was happening more and more recently, but he knew it was just the pregnancy. 

“It went well,” said Abby sleepily. “Don’t you think?” 

“Better than I had hoped.” He had to give her that.

“I really like her. I’m happy to have a friend who didn’t see me at my worst.”

“Callie never saw you at your worst.”

“That’s true. But I’m happy to have a new friend anyway. Next time we should invite Callie and Jake too.”

“Okay.” He smiled and pulled her closer into his arms, his body reacting as she lifted one leg to drape over his and he could feel the warmth between her legs. “You know, I think she has the hots for you though. I saw the way she was looking at you.”

She lifted her head to look at him. “What? No! If anything she’s sweet on you." She smiled coyly. “And the thought of her flipping you and straddling you is so sexy. God I wish I’d seen that.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly, and she laughed and planted kisses on his beard.

“Maybe she has the hots for both of us,” said Marcus. “That’s an interesting thought.” He lifted her chin with his fingers so that he could kiss her on the mouth, and she responded at once, kissing him greedily, as if to lay claim to him. She manoeuvred herself on top of him, straddling him so that her sex was against his erection. 

“Well hello Dr Griffin,” he said with a smirk. “I thought you might be too tired again. Did something rouse you up?”

“Maybe,” she whispered, her hair falling into his face as she looked down at him.

“I can’t imagine what.”

She reached between them and took his cock in her hand, and he sighed in relief as she began to stroke him lazily.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said, watching her in amusement, but she said nothing, just stroked him a little faster. "You're thinking about Charmaine," he said. "Aren't you?" Her eyes were on fire and he knew her too well to not know that she was turned on. His cock twitched in her hand. “I would love to watch you with her. That would be amazing.”

"I want to watch you too," she whispered. 

“God, Abby,” he moaned softly. “And then what?” He gasped as she ran her thumb over the head, teasing him. With a last stroke she raised herself up and slid onto him, hot and tight and wet, and it was all he could do not to lose control. 

“I’d go down on her,” she said as she began to move slowly. “I want to make her feel good.”

“Oh,” he breathed. He grabbed her hips and pulled her down hard, thrusting up into her so that his cock bottomed out inside her and she cried out. His hands moved to cup her breasts, rolling her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, and her breath quickened further.

“Together we’d make her come so hard she’d nearly pass out.”

“Jesus Abby,” he panted. Her words were sending shots of pleasure straight to his groin, making his cock pulse inside her, and he felt dizzy with desire.

“I’d tell you not to come inside her, because you’re mine, but you wouldn’t be able to help yourself.” She was touching herself now, her finger slowly circling her clit. “And as a punishment you’d have to watch us together without touching until you were going crazy.”

“Abby...” His groans were getting more and more uncontrolled, his thrusts faster and faster. She never ceased to amaze him, how she could find more and more ways to turn him on. This was new, he knew she had enjoyed sex with women but they hadn’t really discussed threesomes before, had never felt the need for a third person in their bed, and the fact that the idea turned her on so much was driving him wild. 

“And then, when you were begging, we'd suck you off together,” she whispered. “I’d show her how to do it, how you like it."

He came with a guttural groan, thrusting up inside her, hot spurts filling her over and over. Her movements slowed as his cock pulsed and her muscles squeezed every last drop of his orgasm out of him. When he was spent he pulled her down on top of him and kissed her hard. 

“That was amazing,” he said when he released her. “Christ, you are amazing.” He kissed her hair, ran his hands down her back to her ass, holding her close. “But you didn’t come?”

“I was concentrating too much on you,” she chuckled. “But I enjoyed it anyway.”

He flipped her onto her back and hovered over her. “Close your eyes,” he commanded, and her eyes clouded with lust before she did as she was bidden. “Think about her.” His hand wandered between her thighs, his fingers probing between her folds. Her clit was swollen and slick and he felt it twitch as a small cry escaped her lips. 

“Tell her what you want,” he said. 

“I want her fingers inside me.”

With that he hooked two fingers inside her, and she cried out as he hit the spot that drove her crazy.

“Oh God yes,” she cried, as he began to circle her clit with his thumb. She was writhing now, sweat forming on her brow, her chest flushed and heaving. “Yes, oh God, harder, please.” She opened her legs wider, giving him better access, and he could see she was close, so he inserted a third finger which pushed her closer and closer to the edge. She stilled for a second at the top and then her orgasm erupted from her and she arched off the bed with the force of it, wave after wave after wave crashing through her body, her breath coming in heaving gasps. He carried on pumping his fingers until her muscles stopped clenching, and then he slid them out of her and sucked her juices off them.

She hadn’t opened her eyes since he’d told her to close them and now she opened them cautiously, looking up at him in bewilderment.

“Fuck, Marcus!” she breathed. “Oh God. Fuck.”

He chuckled, looking down at her. “You know, one of the things I love about you is how eloquent you are in bed.”

“Shut up,” she said, flinging her arm over her eyes, trying to get her breath back. “You can’t do things like that to me and then expect a goddamn speech.”

He lay down next to her, and pulled her into his arms. “I don’t want a speech,” he said, kissing her. “Wow, that was hot, Abby. So hot.”

She was still incapable of speech so she merely nodded, her eyes closing as sleep threatened to take her. 

“It was,” she muttered against his chest, as she drifted off. “So hot. Next time we’ll invite Charmaine.”

He smiled into her hair, wondering if she meant it.


End file.
